December Notes

Here's a little bit of what I did his month (besides chasing Sebastien all over the creation, as he has gone from creepy crawler to speed walker in a matter of days, it seems).

12.6 - Dearest friend, Brother, Godfather to my son, and all-around waterman badass, Marcus Marcos, lost his battle with cancer. We are devastated. We will keep him alive in our hearts and minds...

12.8 - Celabrated with Sabrina at her CD showcase at The Venue. (photo: honolulupulse.com)

12.16 - How I ended up singing with The Posies at their show at Pipeline Cafe can be credited mostly to the invention of social media. We first made contact on Twitter, then they checked my Myspace music page, then there was a message on Facebook, which led us to email...eventually we all met up for practice at soundcheck...and there was a show. But I'm still trying to piece together how I made it through "Licenses To Hide"without fainting from excitement and nerves. All I can say is, The Posies rock. Thank you Ken, Jon, Matt & Darius for making me do it.

12.23 - Live at The Peace Cafe! One of my favorite spots for healthy home style eats hosted a candle-lit dinner + music. Hopefully we can make it a regular gig in 2011.

12.25 - Christmas number 1 for Seastien! He scored all the best loot, by far. This mini flannel from his Aunty Ruth is definitely one of my favorites. The picture doesn't do it justice though. He wouldn't sit still.

12.26 - Tyrone & Elina Wells + Kupa`aina jammed at the Venue for their annual Family Show. This is something I look forward to every holiday season.

Happy 2011 everyone. Peace, Kelli

Honolulu Pulse

Check out pictures and more from the Apartm3nt show.

This is me after my set (shetten bricks)

Peace, Kelli

Apt. 3 Gig Notes & More Gigs

Woah, I had a great time playing at Apartm3nt last night. Headlining the bill was Jess Penner (whom with which I am thoroughly impressed), and Sabrina (I was super excited to see and hear her again). Both of these girls have records out, so please support them by buying their music.

Jess Penner
Sabrina

Not only was a wee bit nervooos to play alongside such accomplished women, but I was literally singing to a wall of musicians. Johnny Helm, Kings of Spade (all 100 of them), Otis Schaper, Joni & Bran Apeles from Wait For It, Taryn Manning...

It's tough playing solo. The last time I was playing shows regularly, I had a band of friends backing me up. If things were going bad, we could look to the side and have a laugh about it. If things were going great, we could look to the side and have an even better laugh about it. But not anymore...I'm up there all nakey and alone. Laughing at/with myself.

Here's what I have going so far music-wise for the rest of 2010:

Saturday 11.27 - 12-3 PM Songwriter Radio Show on KTUH 90.3 FM (also feat. Sabrina!)
Thursday 12.23 - 7-9 PM The Peace Cafe (2239 S. King)

Halloweekend

This year, my Halloween weekend started on Wednesday. Well, actually it started on what I thought was Wednesday, but it was actually a Thursday.

So this year, my Halloween weekend started on Thursday.

Now that that's out of the way, on THURSDAY, I was bestowed the honor of delivering my guitar to one of my favorite bands, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.

They needed an acoustic guitar for an acoustic show. I was thrilled to deliver. But being that I was a day behind schedule (thank you, parenthood), I nearly messed it all up by being in the back of Manoa Valley at the exact time I should have been walking through the doors of the music hall with guitar. I frantically dialed my contact, then sped like a bat out of hell towards Dillingham, and made it there to find Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros mid-soundcheck, and happy to recieve the guitar, albeit a half hour behind schedule.

ES & The Magnetic Zeros (and Nico playing my guitar!)

Whew. Thankfully my Mom and Sister were able to keep Sebastien in Manoa so I could break the speed limit laws and roll through the 10 thousand stop signs in Manoa without endangering him.

Friday I was pumped to see Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros again, this time at the Waterfront at Aloha Tower. I was extra excited since I hadn't had a real night out with live music included. My Sister and I got there early to check out the 2 supporting bands, The Throwdowns & The Budos Band. In betwen sets we counted beards and Lady Gaga costumes. She had whiskey. I had a (single) vodka tonic.

After we met up with several other good friends, Edward Sharpe started playing and I soon found myself smashed up against some girl's fairy wings on one side and some white guy's fake dreads on the other. There was a dangerous and muggy looking armpit to my left, and Alex Ebert, a.k.a. Edward Sharpe, was pretty much dripping sweat on my nose. I had to duck every couple if minutes to avoid getting kicked in the head by falling crowd surfers.

At times the music became the mood. But mostly, the drunk and aggressive (mostly) guys trying their damndest to rush the stage by trampling all who stood in thier way made it hard to really let the music set it. There were several of them who could have taken one up the pooper, but I just shut my mouth instead to avoid becoming one of them.

Regardless, the show was a whole lot of much-needed reckless fun. My only wish was that the on stage monitors were more to the artists' liking, if only to relieve them of the awkward looks shooting across the stage. Oh well.

Home was patiently waiting for me, and I greeted it like a limp noodle at around 2 AM. I think Sebastien's spidey sense was on high alert because he woke up just to lecture me shortly after I walked in. I shmacked him with the boob and he fell back asleep pretty quickly...but he got up extra early Saturday to finish filing his complaints.

Saturday afternoon I found myself committed to helping set up a stage and sound downtown for the Hallowbaloo Art & Music Festival. Let me start by saying, live sound is a beast. It's overly stressful for me...me being someone who prefers the meticulous and controlled chaos of studio tracking over the masochistic task of doing live sound for 3 full bands. But I said yes. It was for a good friend. And there were no major heart attacks during set up. I helped out for about 3 hours, but Sebastien's babysitter (a.k.a. my Sis) gave me a good excuse to leave as she could only watch him until 6 PM.

I finished the night watching her and her friends get festive before heading Downtown for the freak show. Then headed home to Daddy with Sebastien.

On Sunday, Sebastien wore his Yoda hat (which he had been practicing doing for the last 3 days) to brunch at the Cream Pot. There were plenty of other babies in the house, but Sebastien was by far the loudest and hungriest.

Later on, I met up with my Mom and Sister, and we took him to Kahala Mall, where Sebastien promtly passed out, and missed the parade of costumes.

We then headed for UH Manoa to check out an Edward Gorey exhibit, but arrived too late.

Alas, Sebastien & I ended our Halloween eating spaghetti in Manoa before heading home to Papakolea.
Peace.

Shallow

My deep thought mode has been out done by Sebastien's screeching hungry baby teradactyl mode. Now that he's sleeping, the rest of my waking night will be spent looking at things on the internet with BBQ Pit Masters plays on the tube in the background.

Go Myron. Go.

GENIUS HAIR

Oh, and...

I finally discovered what Sebastien's purpose in life is. It's the 13th commandment (the one in fine print): 

Thou shalt suck boob and give thine mother hell.

And he's doing a damn good job at it. Extremely punctual and proficient. Good job S.

In Leew

In lieu of blogging in the bloggin blogosphere, as I promised myself I would do despite the all-encompassing job of learning how to be a MOTHER, if only to keep the writing juices flowing (in lieu of me + guitar time), I've actually been living a life that is starting to resemble my old one in many ways.

And the biggest (and most important one) being: Hello recording studios...I'm baaack!!! Hello buttons and microphones. Carpeted walls. Talking to machines when you think no one is listening. Listening to the sound of an upright bass with every cell in your body. All day long. Hello music that no one has heard except you and the people making it. Many times a week. On a weekly basis.

It's funner this time around.

Keeps

More and more I look at Sebastien and at how far we've come from day one.  This boy, who once weighed only 8 pounds now weighs in at 17. A once scrawny floppy-necked little lump is now a babbling, chuckling, smiling little boy who whimpers when he bops his nose on his hand and wears number 3 diapers and is all full of personality and lard. He's  cute. And he lets me take him to the studio and on the airplane. And he lets me stay in bed most of the night...I think I'll keep him.

Music Motherhood Misc

This kid is going to have an interesting life.

Hard Knocks 101

First-time parenthood is not for sissies. Not for lazy romantics who romanticize laziness. It will kick you in the ass when you think you have no ass left to kick. Its main philosophy is that there is no better cure for whiplash than MORE WHIPLASH!!! Except you can't file an insurance claim against parenthood for rear-ending you, then get it to pay for your acupuncture treatments.

You start off fighting the way your life has completely changed. Praying certain things will go back to how they were before (i.e. lady parts). Then you accept it fully...You will be tired forever. Not cute for a while. Completely powerless at times. But full of this exquisite pain, and the kind of gratitude that can only occupy one who is presently standing in the former shoes of their mother, or father, or whoever...

HAPPY (early) MOTHER'S DAY ALL YOU MOTHERS OUT THERE.

Time In Flux

A week's worth of minutes blows right by. Yet I can't find the time to cut my nails.

4-22: Roaming Chinatown. Found Heaven. Contracted serious case of building envy. 

4-23: One Rufus Love Machine - saving my spot.

 

4-24: First day back in the studio. Oooo pretty buttons. How I've missed you.

4-25: Rufus - Babysitting

4-26: Swimming lesson.

4-27: To the sea!

4-28: Why I wake up when I really don't want to wake up.

4-29: Mine and mine all mine.

Goose53 Makes My Day

No sleep will come tonight. Sebastien - even though his eyes are closed - is not really sleeping. As in he's half awake because he's SICK. At least I think he is. Congestion, excess drool, grumps (also in excess), restlessness, sleeping with one eye open...it must be a cold. His poor little whines sound like rusty hinges. And since I couldn't get an appointment for him until tomorrow, the first thing I did (after frowning at the receptionist through the phone line) was go online to search for something...anything that might be of help to him if his stuffiness got any worse. Because if I know anything, it's this:

No. 1: Breathing is essential to continuation of life. I know this one first hand.

No. 2: For how minor an ailment stuffy noses are, they irritate the living crap out of me. At least I can complain and then feel a little better. All he can do is cry, which makes stuffy noses even stuffier (I also have first-hand experience with this one).

Most forums I found on the subject suggested steaming the snot out of him (like a sauna for his nostrils), as well as employing the ever-popular bulb aspirator and saline solution trick (a.k.a. nose douche). Decided to hold off on that last one...

Then I found this forum, which reminds why I love the internet so much. And here's why: 'MarionR' had a 6-week old with congestion that could not be cleared up by any of the standard remedies. Her doctor (whom they'd visited twice) sent them home with no prognosis/remedy, other than 'it's just a stuffy nose...deal with it'. The posts that followed were mostly encouraging MarionR to see another doctor, get another opinion, and stress the importance of her daughter's need to breathe to her care-giver. Well, she did just that, and it turns out the baby was re-tested, then diagnosed with acid reflux. The mother was relieved that she could finally help her baby get better. Yay for happy endings...

The posts then congratulated MarionR for going with her instinct and getting the 2nd opinion. And then 'organic_fernando' enters the fray. Stage left. And I quote: "most patients don't realize that most of the time, the problems in diagnoses stem from an inability of the patient to understand the problems at hand, or communicate them in a non-hysterical, quasi-scientific manner...as the non-medical son and husband of doctors, I can tell you firsthand that overwhelmingly, the problems with most misdiagnoses have more to do with the patients than the doctor'. 

First of all...WHAT!? Could this be true? Yes we see doctors because we are having trouble understanding the problem. But it's MY fault if they don't understand it too?! And isn't the patient a NEWBORN?! AND, if your wife is a doctor, WHY ARE YOU LURKING ON THIS FORUM?!

'coleenoz' retorts in favor of 2nd opinions: 'Ladies, trust your instincts'.

'organic_fernano': 'Parenting is nervewracking, and makes you feel sometimes like you're just sitting there watching someone asphyxiate. But you're not (mostly). And thank God we don't just "trust our instincts". If we did, we'd still be burning women at stakes for "witchery" and bleeding people when they sneezed too loud at parties.' 

Okay...even though my nerves have been thoroughly wracked by parenthood, I doubt I'd find myself just 'sitting there' while my baby chokes. Which is a sure sign that my instincts are to be trusted.

And then out of the blue, 'goose53' diffuses the whole situation: 'did you two notice this post is over SIX years old? get a life!'

Ha! I always knew I liked poultry.

The Pants - Circa 2008

A couple years ago, some guy asked me how I got these pants up past my ankles. Instead of kicking him in the breakfast I paused and realized 2 things: He has a point because these pants are tight and severely tapered at the ankle...and if I did in fact kick him in the breakfast the pants might rip at the crotch, giving the guy reason enough to say: Dude she totally fondled me AND let me see her underwear.

Skills?

My shoulder smells like cheese. Don't think anyone could appreciate this more that my good friend Johnny Helm. Several times a day I find myself wondering....how can I get this shirt off without smearing Sebastien's barf all down my arm and across my cheek? I've actually gotten pretty good at avoiding altercations with his splooge. One of the things I've mastered since becoming a Mama. That and dodging the golden shower.

Desktop Essentials

Salvation Army lamp, Sharpies, Voodoo candle holder, tortilla chips, gummy bears, blank CD's, Apple

Proof That Dogs Aren't Color Blind

He doesn't like the green ones.

And I Live To Tell

I guess the only thing more daunting than taking a newborn on an airplane for the first time is...ummm...NOTHING. Though it took some convincing, convince me she did, to join her and my sister for a mini vacation in Hilo. My Mom even offered to pay for one leg of the journey, being that this week was the Merrie Monarch hula festival, and all flights to Hilo were double expensive. On Tuesday afternoon we booked, and on Wednesday morning we flew. No time time think about it. Much better that way.

We lucked out on our way to Hilo and I was able to fly with them, even though my reservation was for an earlier flight. And I even got a seat next to my sister, which would make the whole nursing on the plane thing a bit more comfortable. At the gate in Honolulu, I ran into a friend/producer/musician (who shall remain nameless) whom I have worked with in studio over the past couple of years. His wife recently had a baby...

And this is how I ended up talking breast pumps. With a dude. In public. Within earshot of other dudes.

It went something like, "Hey long time no see, so are you breast feeding?" And I was like, "Yes and no, I need to express my milk to keep up with his appetite." And he was like, "What kind of pump are you using. Is it 'meh' something? That's what my wife used." "Medela? No, I use a manual pump. Helps to strengthen my grip at the same time..."

Okay I didn't say that thing about the grip. Only in my head.

And this is not the first time I've had this conversation with a guy. It just so happens that I know more guys that girls who have recently become parents. And this is what parents with newborns talk about I guess.

Oh, Hilo. Right. It was beautiful as it always is. And buzzing with anticipation for the Festival. We stopped in at the makeshift Kealopiko boutique on Bay Front. Had some bowls at the `awa bar. Met up with family outside the Salvation Army after scoring some outfits for Sebastien. Oogled the plywood ceiling at the Sig Zane boutique. It was fun and tiring. A test of his tolerance for my meanderings.

Jamie & Hina & Sebastien at the Kealopiko boutique

He doesn't mind, I swear

I've come to appreciate the coordination it takes to travel with little ones. The never ending and ever challenging juggle of feedings, diaperings, burpings, nappings, and in and out of the car-seatings when you're on the move, all while trying to enjoy yourself and not ruin the vacation part of the vacation for your fellow travelers because these airline tickets cost an arm and a leg dammit! And you WILL enjoy this if it KILLS you!!! At times I felt like a 2-ton ball and chain packing a stroller. But my family was gracious, always helpful, and never once complained about the drag.

My Sis accepting award for Best Aunty

The following and final day of the trip went much the same, and before I knew it I was back at the airport, on my way home. Only this time I was flying solo - with Sebastien. With diaper bag on one shoulder, tired squawky and squirmy on the other, boarding pass and ID between my teeth, warm bottle at the ready, we made it to the gate just in time for pre-boarding. All without ruining my 1 hour old pedicure at security.

Anti-Gravity

After The Girlas opened for him at Pipeline Cafe in 2008, we took Justin Nozuka for a surf/swim off Diamond Head. I snuck up on him sneakily and got this shot. By the way, he stood up on his first wave...what a guy!

For Grandpa Cootie

1916-2010

Paz

And So It Goes

The devil wears onesies.

I'm just kidding. He outgrew his onesies this week.

Onesies now look more like one-third-sies (thanks for that one Nels, and for reminding me how I just 'shat out a baby'), so it was off to Goodwill to go shopping for twosies.

Besides the fact that I've spent the past 6 weeks either half asleep or half awake, I've begun spacing out in 9 out of 10 social situations. While I once was simply shy and only partially withdrawn, I was at least observant and able to contribute. Now, I'm just dumb. And completely irrelevant.

At the dinner table the other night, I hardly had a thought other than, "What time is it? Why is mint jelly so good? Because it's so bad. Mmmm, omelettes" Over and over and over.

The only reason I'm able to keep a blog is that ability to think on my feet has been replaced with the ability to think on my ass. Intermittently.

Anyways, my point WAS...after we found some sweet digs for the little guy, we walked over to Coffee Talk to see if our friend Liz was working. Alas, she was not, but we ran into some old friends from a former life I had lived not too long ago. A life that ended abruptly when the center of that life died while free diving off Waikiki. He was incredible and amazing and a father and an artist. And when he left I was done for.

But with the help of friends and family, many gallons of `awa, a huge cloud of tobacco smoke, a whole lotta music - and an impossible love that made everything possible once again - I've made pretty good work of becoming un-done-for.

Anyways (again), my point is lost...but these friends I ran into - whom I've been avoiding subconsciously/purposely/foolishly in my misguided attempt to never be reminded of how rock-bottom felt against my face - were so good to see. And that's all.

Maybe time heals. Or maybe we decide when we're ready to just be well.

All-nighter No. 1 billion

New levels of crankiness were reached this morning after Sebastien's night time waking-up routine took a turn for the worse. He now wishes to not only wake up, but stay up and squirm and fuss for the hour and a half after his feedings (where I used to get at least a little sleep). Hopefully, just like the good old days of staying up all night BY CHOICE, this too, shall pass.

Dave rescued me from sticking my head in the toilet for an extended amount of time at around 6 AM, not long after I tripped over the stool in the bathroom and spilled much of my hard-earned milk on the floor. Talk about heartbreak...

Ah me. On the flip side, I think Sebastien loves me a little. And I love him. And his Daddy too.

Date Nuit Extended

I thought date night was for old people. I thought it was for people who's relationships needed rescuing. I thought having to schedule time to be together was a sign that someone's priorities were a bit...off. I was wrong. Date night is awesome. Pencil me in!

We started off by killing time at the book store before our dinner reservation, where we picked up the latest issue of Dwell (haha...good thing I no longer take my uber cool design mag reading self seriously). Then it was off to Assagio Bistro, which was...ummm...a nice place to sit.

And sit we did. Two bleary-eyed first-timers having a slow conversation about travel, about food, about the future...re-discovering the vocabulary we had abandoned not so long ago in the blur of labor, delivery, and parenthood. It felt new and old. Remembered. Forgotten. The same and so very different.

On a whim, we ended our night at Anna Banana's, on a last-minute mission to reconnect with our friend, Jesse Savio at his weekly open mic. We said hello, and caught the first song of his set. I touched the bar top, and then my eye. My eye then started to itch. Eew.

On our way to pick up Sebastien I silently stressed about the long nights and days ahead, and tried not to provoke my sleepiness by thinking too hard about it.

Date Nuit

For those of you who have drooled over the seriously sleek and modern design of Dwell magazine, I've found the website to burst your stainless steel counter top acid washed concrete floor bubble.


A friend sent me a link to this very funny blog. Somehow I find it funny even as I'm reading it instead of going to see Crazy Heart with Dave. Alas, the night is young, and we still have dinner reservations in a couple of hours. 


Thank you (you know who you are) for keeping me entertained on date night, while Daddy catches up on some much needed zzz's.


http://unhappyhipsters.com/

I Have No Words

No ween? Ever??

Brain Fut

So today we ventured as a tight-knit unit into unknown territory...a shopping mall. Why, you ask, do we torture our poor sleep deprived bodies like this? Well, Mom, Sister, Sebastien, Rufus, and I were on our way back Town side from the Orchid Show in Wahiawa (which btw was very pretty and smelled nice) and decided that Pearlridge Uptown was a good place to stop and take care of a couple errands. My Mom needed to return an item, and I needed to exchange a gift - a book - that I won't name by name, but if you've ever been pregnant, or bought a book for someone who's pregnant, you probably know which series of books I'm talking about.

I, myself am not a fan of this very popular series of books. My tolerance for books that feel more like an episode of Scare Tactics rather than encouraging you to trust your body is barely visible. Even though this book had more to do with the raising of a child than it did with pregnancy, it still came from the same shitty heritage of books that can suck a big fat one. Wherein lies my decision to exchange the gift. Hence our decision to brave the mall.

There we were, Sebastien fast asleep in his stroller, and my tired, tortured, sleep deprived body, in line, ready to exchange the (well meaning, but sorry I just can't do it) gift for the glorious book of my choosing. The cashier looked at the gift receipt and then back at me. And she looked confused. And I was kind of oblivious (see the part about sleep deprivation). I was trying to return the item to the WRONG BOOK STORE. Not just the wrong location, but the wrong chain of stores all together.

I felt more like an ass than I probably should have. I do realize I've been wrestling a newborn for sleeping rights (and losing horribly) for a month and a half. Oh well...I'll probably never see that cashier again. And if I do, I won't remember her face. I'm so tired I can barely see past my unibrow.

I guess the next book in the series should be "What Not To Expect When You Were Expecting To Exchange This Book For Something Better".

Great Expectations

Holy shit. Rufus, Sebastien and I survived our first trip to the market without a chaperone. After I fed Sebastien this morning - while Dave fed me...no seriously, he sat right there and fed me potatoes and scrambled eggs while I fed Sebastien...

Yes you are reading this correctly. This is the man that suffered me learning how to drive standard (while I was pregnant), works his tail off in a hot kitchen all day, puts up with my moody rants and babbles, and gets up super early to be Sebastien's butler so I can get a couple hours of real sleep. Then cooks me breakfast AND feeds it to me before going to work. Yes I know I'm lucky. Yes, I still complain sometimes.

Anyhow, while I was at the market, I had an encounter with a girl who was pregnant with her first kid. She saw Sebastien sleeping like an angel in his car seat, which I had propped up in the shopping cart (safe, or no?), and she immediately got goo goo faced and smiley over him. The look of pure excitement and anticipation was all over her body language...and all I could do was smile and say, CONGRATULATIONS!!! Yayeeee!...as my voice trailed off...

I should have told her how hard it gets. How lonely you can feel sometimes. How your plans and romantic notions about motherhood will be gutted by the reality that you have no idea what you are doing. How even though you'll have more help than you'd feel comfortable asking for, you'll still want to crumble into a million pieces if it means you can sleep for 20 extra minutes between each feeding. How you will reach a new level of exhaustion everyday, and then top it a hundred times over the next. How labor and delivery are the easiest part. But who wants to hear that? Who wants to SAY that? To a stranger. Who's pregnant and hormonal. And goo goo faced over your 5 1/2 week old sleeping angel. Not I.

Then again, I wish someone had told me. Just like that - in the raw. Even though I probably wouldn't have believed it...


There's no better preparation for your first child than your first child.


And they say it gets easier. For me, like most things people tell me, I'll believe it when I see it.

Hold Everything

I've become the master of doing everything fast. For instance, I no longer sit on the toilet for 20 minutes and read Dwell magazine while the wind blows and the birds chirp outside the window. Oh no. Now it's more like, if your digestive system is not bursting and crying for mercy, and if you can't do your thing in 10 seconds or less, or before the kiddo demands his next meal and some cuddle time, forget about it for the next 3 hours. Just forget about it. Hold everything. Hold that thought, that idea, that lyric, that pee, that...everything. Your little one needs you to put the pacifier back in his mouth for the thousandth time today.

Well Played

Congratulations Anuhea, One Hawaii, and Warren Wyatt for setting up the sickest tour ever!


Smack dab in the middle of the Right Love Tour, Anuhea and The Green are taking the stage at the grand daddy of all music and film industry showcases, SXSW. If you're in the Austin area, pat yourself on the back, then go see them and other Hawaiian flag toting artistes at Roy's in Austin, Texas on March 20.

Anuhea also plays a handful of other dates at SXSW before heading east to finish off the Right Love tour, which ends up at the legendary Bowery Electric, New York City. How sweet is THAT!!!

For full Right Love Tour info, go here.

For more on Hawaii's presence at SXSW 2010, go here.


See you when you get back!

Much Needed

Their company saved the day today! Thank you.

Grouch-fest

I think someone in the neighbor's house just saw by boob. Or at least part of it. But it's okay because these - things - on my chest can hardly be considered boobs anymore. Much less 'tits' or 'fun bags'. I don't know what they are, or how long the plan to just...hang around, but I'll be glad when they can fit back into my old clothes.

So it's barely past noon, and I've already gone through several onesies because Sebastien keeps yaking milk all over himself. He's been up and grumpy since 4:30 this morning and shows no signs of cheering up for the next ten years. At least his cuteness makes up for his less-than-appetizing bedside manner. But the cuteness is cancelled out by the realization that there are still 12 more hours left in the day.

Ooo he's sleeping. No, he's just blinking for a really long time.

My First Pyrex

During a recent random scan of the housewares shelf at Goodwill, I found this glass pot! One day I'll have my own kitchen where this and other Goodwill houseware items can become good friends. Until then, this sweet find will live with my Mom's pots in her Manoa kitchen.

Human Cheese?

So last night I (we...Dave, Sebastien, Rufus, and Kelli) actually went out. As in got in the car, drove on the street, and ended up somewhere other than a doctor's office. Not that doctors offices are less than entertaining...it was kind of funny when Sebastien gave the nurse a golden shower last month...It's just that when most 'outings' take us to either Kuakini or Castle Medical Center, the view can get a little narrow. For instance, the highlight of my morning was when Dave chased the chickens out of the yard with the water hose. He doesn't know I saw him do it. That's why it was so funny.

I'm exaggerating. I went to Bookends the other week (but it was after a doctor's appointment!). 

But still, do you know how exciting this was for me? To be out, AFTER DARK, listening to LIVE music, talking to ADULTS, drinking `awa!!! Holy shit. I felt what it was like to be me, exactly 1 year ago. Thank you Diamond Head Cove for saving me from my computer screen for a couple hours.

In other news (Dave told me about this one), a Manhattan chef has been banned from serving cheese made from his wife's breastmilk. PAUSE. Maybe last year, when it had been a quarter of a century since my last encounter with breastmilk, my radar would have stayed asleep for this one. But now...it's up. Way up. OK, un-pause.

It's not that breastmilk is gross or anything. It's the only thing I want to feed my baby. But consuming the stuff that looks (and probably smells) like the stuff that comes back up if I don't burp him enough...yeeccchhh. My favorite part of the story was that the chef served the human cheese to his wife without telling where it came from! WHAT! How sneaky. I'm starting to like this guy more and more.

But don't get any ideas Honey. I like cheese. Let's keep it that way.

Hi Mom!

Boys will be boys will be...BOYS.

Ear Candy

Tonight and every Sunday at Fresh Cafe, Candy Diaz hosts an Open Mic from 7-10p. Candy is the first (and as of right now, the only) follower of Echo & Heighten. Visit her tonight at 831 Queen Street or see what she's up to on Facebook.

I'd go, but I have a date with my son.

Ode To Rufus

Ever since Sebastien was born, Rufus has been threatening to run away with the circus. Here he is practicing his mouth-eye coordination. I told him he'd have to do better than this because even though it's a low paying gig, I hear the Chinese, and Vegas for that matter, both have very high standards.

One-Handed

MUSIC: I grew up on piano lessons and Leonard Cohen cassettes. I learned to play guitar because it's easier than piano. I tried to write songs because my insides wanted out. I recorded other people's records because I got sick of my music. I joined a band because I like people. I quit the band so I could keep liking people. I stopped everything because I got pregnant. I am back because I find myself wanting more.

MOTHERHOOD: I recently joined the Mommy club with the birth of my son, Sebastien. Hello diapers and sore nips. Goodbye independence (for now). I had 9 months to prepare to be a Mama, so I got a dog and spent most of it preparing to give birth. The birth was fabulous. No more Mama scrimmage - game time *tsua*!!!

MISC: I have many loves besides music and my family; some of which I may or may not write about in this here blog, and may or may not include the following subjects: photography, sewing, furniture, books, love itself, your mom... You get the idea.

From here on out I will do my best to keep myself entertained while my son falls asleep in my arms, causing my whole left arm and right butt cheek to fall asleep as well. Why a blog? Well, my imaginary friend/reader, it's easier to type than it is to play my guitar with one hand. Mustn't wake the little beast.

Music makes me think. Thinking makes me write. Echo. Heighten. Echo. Heighten.